


This It Thing

by clari_clyde



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1833376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clari_clyde/pseuds/clari_clyde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard sends an assistant out for an ice cream run. It takes a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This It Thing

“Hey Captain!” Howard yells at Steve. “How about some ice cream?”

 _South of Munich? As we’re heading towards Austria? In the middle of winter?_ Steve wonders to himself.

But Howard rambles on. “I’m sending an assistant out to do an ice cream run. Was thinking you deserve a reward for all the cool Hydra toys you brought back.”

“Me and my men,” Steve corrects Howard. “All of us. We all had a hand in bringing back those weapons.”

“Sure thing. I usually order just a crate, but I think I can order a few this time.”

Steve raises an eyebrow as one of Howard’s younger assistants takes off on a jeep. “Where’s he going?”

“To the air field of course.”

Steve would ask but then Peggy waves him over. And so it goes for the next two weeks — the ice cream is forgotten between reading intelligence reports and planning the actual raid. And then they come back from the actual raid, all weary and tired and in need of rest and relaxation and, sadly for Jim, some triage time to get some stitches.

As they stagger in towards camp as the sun has finally peeked out over the eastern mountains, Steve can hear a jeep approaching from behind and when he turns around, there’s Howards assistant, calling out to him, “Hey, do you know where Mr. Stark is?”

“No idea. We’re just getting here ourselves — ”

“Thanks. I can find him myself then!” And with that, the assistant speeds off with some crates bouncing in the back and leaves Captain America and the Howling Commandos in the dust.

❀

Later after lunch, after having been debriefed, and after starting to settle down in their tent, conversation that would be about the raid’s highlights is replaced with conversation about ice cream — or, specifically, ice cream sandwiches. It, whatever this _it_ thing is, is the hit of the hour.

Gabe and Jacques are seated at the table trying to come up with words to describe this ungodly creation. Their faces are oh so expressive with each bite and the others wonder if they’re coming up with words that translate to “generous” or “decadent” or “orgasmic” to describe this thing of large oatmeal cookies sandwiching a proportionately large serving of vanilla ice cream all covered in a thick shell of chocolate.

James, when not threatening to steal more than his fair share, swats Dum Dum’s hand each time he reaches out for “just one more.” Maybe they each snuck an extra off the crate in the room but who could blame them.

Steve and Bucky are on a bed huddled close and hovering over one of these things as they take turns wiping dripping ice cream off each others’ lips; wiping melted chocolate off their fingertips and onto each other; savoring in oatmeal cookies so large and hearty, they swear these things are made from Steve’s mom’s “sick day oatmeal.”

Obviously, these were not made by Steve’s mom and soon, the conversation turns to the sandwiches’ origins.

“Does it matter where they come from?” Gabe asks while trying to reverse engineer the thing in his head. Thick oatmeal cookies can be made and vanilla ice cream can be made or bought. Getting the thing _entirely_ and perfectly covered in chocolate though might pose a challenge.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I heard Olsen — I think that’s his name? — say he got delayed by fog and rain when he was there, where ever ‘there’ is.”

“So he was in London?” Dum Dum offers. “Or maybe somewhere else in England?”

Steve looks at the box but there’s something distinctly American about the cartoonish illustration of the product and the very bold and fat typography of the logo. And James points out, “I have never seen these things in my life.”

“Howard had Olsen fly off to New York City.” Bucky says. “These are prolly from Coney Island. And that is what I’m betting on.”

Steve shrugs. He himself has never seen the thing. Although, he and Bucky have been to Coney Island only once in their entire lives and he’d rather not think about what food they had that day after some unfortunate queaziness after riding the Cyclone. Despite that, Bucky’s theory seems legitimate enough. But then again —

“Nah,” Steve says. “Howard is a lot of things, excessive being one of them. But he’d never fly a guy out all the way to Coney Island just for ice cream. Three thousand miles is just way too much —”

“Outta my way!” They hear Jim outside in the distance making his way towards the tent. “I don’t care if I bust open my stitches, I better get some ice cream!”

When Jim finally bursts through the tent’s front flap, his eyes hone in on the crate and his eyes light up in shocked delight. “Yes!”

But that look of delight eventually turns to one of horror when he realizes, “Howard flew his assistant all the way to Playland at the Beach?”

❀

It’s a sunny day and if Howard is going to spend some time outdoors in the winter to eat ice cream sandiwches while sketching notes, it might as well be that sunny day. And so far, it’s been a relaxing post-lunch me-time until —

“Six thousand miles!”

Howard looks up to a very peeved Peggy with one eyebrow raised.

“Well,” he says, “More like seven thousand with all the refueling stops along the way.”

“I should’ve known.” Peggy snatches the bag of ice cream sandwiches by Howard’s side. “So that’s how you cookie.”

Maybe Howard should go after Peggy to get back his ice cream. But oh well, he’s got an entire crate in his quarters. However, maybe he should ask Steve if Peggy meant anything by that. That maybe turns to a definitely when he arrives at his quarters to find his crate of ice cream missing and in its place, a note:

> I don’t do fondue often but I do ice frequently enough. So thank you for these.


End file.
